


In Which Secrets Are Secrets No More

by Renai_chan



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Humor, Jealous Eggsy, Kingsman meets the Avengers, M/M, Not Much Plot TBH, That's the Entire Plot, The Avengers Have Secret Identities In This One, inter-agency cooperation, mostly banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5181434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renai_chan/pseuds/Renai_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eggsy stumbles across an archer and a female spy and discovers some secrets way above his paygrade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Secrets Are Secrets No More

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, my two fandoms collided and here is the result. Mostly, I just wanted to see how the characters would interact with each other. 
> 
> I was half tempted to make a Steve/Tony/Harry/Eggsy scene because I have this awful tendency of smooshing together my OTPs from different fandoms whenever I do crossovers, but I valiantly defeated that impluse. I did, however, have fun writing the interaction between Tony and Harry.
> 
> I'm sure there are plotholes abound, especially since I barely skimmed the whole "aliens exist" aspect of the Avengers plot and made minimal effort in introducing it to the Kingsman plot. But then again, this was an exercise in character interactions, not plot integration. So just go with it :)
> 
> Unbeta'd and unbritpicked, FYI.

He had a bow and arrow. An honest to goodness _bow_ and _arrow_! Granted it looked all shiny and modern and fucking badass, but really. A _bow and arrow_. Eggsy would have literally laughed--and loudly at that--in the archer’s face had not he been staring down the length of said arrow, watching the blinking of a light that seemed to promise more than just a stab to the eye.

"’Oo the fuck are you?" he tried to say, but the guy, the Yank with a bow and arrow asked him the exact question first.

"Eggsy Unwin, otherwise known as 'Galahad,'" would, of course, be the wrong answer to give, so instead, he tossed the question back at the man as if he hadn’t heard it in the first place.

"I'm not the moron with a weapon to his face," was the archer’s cocky reply, and while he was very, very right, he was also very, very annoying. And with Merlin currently screaming in his ear, it was just another thing that was driving Eggsy barmy enough to take drastic action.

And the thing was, Eggsy had had weapons shoved in his face before--guns and knives and, during one memorable mission, a bazooka--they never really stopped him from doing what needed to be done. 

He was at an advantage, to be honest, because he had the element of surprise here. The man was staring at basically what amounted to a posh git in a penguin suit with no visible weapons on him, so when Eggsy suddenly spun out of the arrow's range and slammed his signet ring in the guy's arm, he was expecting said guy to crumple to the ground without having released his arrow into Eggsy's face.

What he wasn't expecting was a high-heeled roundhouse to the head.

Harry was suddenly there, yelling in his ear when he would usually be a silent observer when he had the time to observe. "Take her out, Galahad!" he screamed, and _ow_! Did he and Merlin not realize that they were basically bludgeoning his eardrums? But more worrying that that, though, was the genuine _fear_ in Harry's voice.

It was because of that that Eggsy didn't hesitate. He swept his leg out low and attempted to bring the red-headed woman to the ground. She flipped away, all three-inch heels and all and maybe Harry was right in his worry because any woman who could do that deserved all of Eggsy’s respect and a healthy dose of his fear as Roxy time and time again demonstrated. 

Eggsy chased her down anyway and was there when she landed. He threw a jab at her, knowing it wouldn’t land, and a follow up elbow that did. She moved into it, minimizing the blow, and used her momentum to swing an uppercut into his solar plexus. It was a good, clean hit, but Eggsy had taken worse, so it barely winded him. He brought his elbow down and slammed it onto her right shoulder just as she was in the process of swiping his feet out from below her.

He twisted his legs in the air and caught her on the temple with his heel, then he grabbed her ankle and _pulled_.

Of course, being on the floor didn’t make her any less formidable. She pulled a blade out of God knows where in her slinky, barely-there silver dress and slashed it across the space Eggsy had just been lying on before he rolled away to avoid her. She chased after him with ease--snake-like in the ease of her movement across the floor--jabbing the blade once, twice, thrice at him. When the blade finally dug into his bicep, her grabbed her arm and used that to pull her against him and slam an elbow into her face. She grunted and jumped back, leaving her knife in his arm.

It wasn’t a retreat, though, merely gearing up so that when she launched herself at him, her full weight threw him across the room and into the wall. Eggsy blocked and parried and punched and kicked as often as he could, as best as he could. Every single trick in his extensive Kingsman repertoire found their place in the attack; his movements were fluid, seamless, almost graceful, lethal in their beauty, guaranteed to take down a dozen men in ten moves or less.

And she countered each and every one of them.

Eggsy grunted when a punch landed on his ribs. She used that to her advantage, lunging into him and whipping his head back with a kick that should have come from nowhere. She had momentum working against her. But Eggsy had strength.

As soon as he managed to pull her into a headlock, he held tight and braced himself for whatever close-quarter combat techniques she threw at him. She struggled and another knife found its way in his arm, but Eggsy didn’t let go because he felt her consciousness slipping in his arms.

And then an arrow stabbed him in the thigh.

 _Fuck_ , he grunted when he looked up at the archer he had previously taken down. His narrowed eyes were the last thing Eggsy saw before he blacked out.

...............

He woke later to arrow guy staring at him menacingly and redhead coolly, like he was no threat at all despite his having been able to restrain her and nearly take her out. But considering his hands were currently cuffed to the chair he sat on, he believed she had just cause for her confidence. So for now, he could only sit and stare at them.

Now that he had the chance to do so properly, he found that both of his opponents seemed oddly familiar. Like he should know them somehow but his thoughts couldn’t make the right connections with his memories.

He turned to assess the third person who sat opposite him at the table, between where the pair stood, hoping the man could provide Eggsy with clues. Unfortunately, he was entirely unremarkable.

His smile was easy and casual. Could even pass as friendly if Eggsy hadn’t been in a fight with the people flanking him and hadn’t currently been restrained. He watched Eggsy come to as if it were the most important task in his to-do list right now. His hands, clasped on the table in front of him, bore no paper, no weapon, nothing that would identify who he was or what command he held. He, however, wore a very nice suit--nothing close to the quality of Kingsman, but very high end and perfectly tailored nonetheless. That much, Eggsy could appreciate.

Ignoring them for a moment, he took stock of the room they were in. Standard interrogation room, really, much like Holborn: mirror on one wall, table, chairs, and little else. Possibly government because Mafia dons weren't as inclined to invest in rooms such as this, not when back alleys seemed to be good enough for them.

He himself was missing his jacket, his glasses, all his gadgets disguised as accessories--including his bow tie, shoes, cufflinks, and watch--and his weapons. None of this boded well for Eggsy. He only hoped Harry and Merlin were able to gather enough intel about his location before he was stripped of his equipment.

"Shall I start then?" said the unremarkable man when Eggsy's gaze found its way back to him. "I suppose the best place to begin would be to ask for your name."

"Fuck you," Eggsy answered, just to see if it would ruffle him. While bow-and-arrow shifted, no other movement happened in the room.

"To be expected, of course, but not the answer I was hoping for," the man continued, unconcerned. “I suppose it might help if I explained why you’re here.” His stare was cool and easy, almost at par with Harry’s ability to remain unperturbed by the surprises of life. "The thing is, even though you randomly engaged my agents at a high-profile event, I could have easily written you off as someone with a modicum amount of martial arts training who just so happened to stumble on them and panic into a fight, but." He paused, eyes narrowed. "You took out one of my agents, and you very nearly took out the other at hand-to-hand combat--her expertise. More concerningly, I can find no record of you anywhere in our frankly expansive intelligence systems.

"If you are from another agency, it would serve you well to reassure us of that or else you may find yourself sunk into the bowels of our building until I do find out who you are." His voice had the tone of a man utterly bored with his job, and his face reflected that. But his eyes... Well. He was certainly one of the more effective interrogators Eggsy had come across.

But Eggsy had experienced torture up to and including having his toenails removed. The man was going to have to work harder than that if he wanted any information. He gave the man an easy smile.

"I don't know wot the fuck yer talkin' about, bruv," Eggsy said. Redhead's eyes narrowed.

"British, but not MI6," she told the man. In Russian. Eggsy was suddenly glad Harry insisted he take all those Russian lessons before all else. As much as he hated stereotyping, for some reason all the best villains came from Russia. Case in point: his current mission. She continued, "I may have encountered someone similar before, but I cannot be sure. It was... a while ago." An interesting pause when the two other men twitched. "I can see similarities, but I wasn't able to engage the other man long enough to come up with anything but superficial observations."

"Any idea of who they are?" the man asked with fluent ease.

"We weren't able to come up with a definitive answer," she said.

"Friendly?" he asked again.

Her lips twitched. "Considering we were fighting each other, then I’d think so."

Interesting, Eggsy thought as he pretended to be confused. "Please don't tell me yer Russian mobsters or summink. I mean, the suit's fer show. Was ‘opin' ter pick meself up a daddy at that party"

The man tilted his head. "Let's not pretend you aren't as intelligent as we both know you--"

The door suddenly opened, startling all four of them though none visibly showed it with more than the turning of their heads.

A man in a black trench coat and an eyepatch--as if he wanted to reclaim the traditional villain garb as his own. Or probably because he was a villain himself--strode in with purpose. "Release him, Coulson," he ordered shortly. Or maybe not.

"Sir," the man--Coulson--tried.

"Now," trenchcoat said once more, an easy command that had redhead obeying without further word.

Eggsy twisted his wrists when they were freed, rubbing at the rawness from the handcuffs.

"Follow me," said trenchcoat before anything else could be said and strode back out of the room with the confidence of someone who knew he'd be obeyed without question. Eggsy wasn't planning on staying and finding out what Coulson had in store for him--maybe trenchcoat was a plant or an ally he hadn’t known about.

He walked at a sedate pace behind the man, taking stock of the building around him as he went. Mostly corridors, though, more interrogation rooms and an office or two, as if the interrogation rooms were consciously placed in areas where... _guests_ didn’t have a lot of access to information.

They climbed into the elevator, Coulson and the two agents joining them, and the elevator prompted them for a floor.

"Director's office," said trenchcoat. Eggsy's eyebrows lifted at him, but apart from a quick glance, he received no further response.

As they stepped off the elevator, the door loomed before him, foreboding in the dark, narrow corridor, especially with him being boxed in by the four people (he didn’t dare try to escape just yet. He wasn’t stupid enough to assume he could take on all four of them at once, not when redhead was already formidable enough in her own right). Despite having been freed, Eggsy almost expected a torture chamber at the very end.

What he didn't expect was a bright, airy penthouse office that contained one Harry Hart taking his tea.

"Arthur?" Eggsy wondered aloud, blinking in surprise.

Harry ignored him for now, glancing at Coulson and the two agents. "I don't recall inviting them, Nicholas," he said in a voice so crisply accented that it couldn't have meant anything but to dismiss.

'Nicholas' only scoffed. "Good luck ridding yourself of them now that your agent's tipped off their curiosity. If not now, they'd use everything at their disposal to figure you out. They can't stand not knowing." Nicholas snorted at them. "Children, the lot of you. And you, Phil. I expected more."

Harry's mouth turned into a frown. "This violates the agreement, Nicholas."

"I trust them," was the simple, easy answer. Harry stared at the man for a long moment, searching and assessing at the same time. 

It was almost hilarious, Eggsy thought, both of them sizing each other up through one eye while the remaining one on each man was covered in an eyepatch--and on the same side too. The black man--who kind of looked eerily like Valentine, Eggsy suddenly realized (only his trust in Harry’s lack of alarm kept him from making sure Nicholas wasn’t in any way in in cahoots with Valentine)--was as formidable as Arthur was, that much Eggsy could glean out of their stare down.

Eventually, Harry agreed with a loud, put-upon sigh that screamed disapproval to Eggsy's ears, "If needs must." As a knight, Eggsy somehow felt that he should support Harry’s concern about the presence of the three unwanted guests, but then again, because of these guys, he'd be getting a story too.

"’Ow do we know these people?" he asked instead.

Harry sipped at his tea contemplatively. "The donors won’t like this,” he started with, and then shot all of them a pointed look, Eggsy included, “ _if_ \--" ‘Not when' was the silent command. "--they find out about this.”

Nicholas snorted once more, unconcerned. "You and your donors," he scoffed.

"Yes, well, as I recall, you had to deal with your _Council_ ," Harry answered acidly. Eggsy blinked at the stark contempt in his tone. "I do believe I drew the longer straw in this instance."

"'Had' being the operative word here," Nicholas replied flippantly.

"You dumped all your secrets on the Internet and burned your organization to the ground," Harry pointed out slowly with an arched eyebrow. "And now, you’ve rebuilt from just a singular source of income--regardless how rich and powerful said source of income is--therefore putting all your eggs in one basket. _Do_ forgive me if I find that isn't the best course of action for _my_ organization."

Eggsy turned his attention to Nicholas who was grinning widely. And oh. _Oh_ , they were _teasing_ each other.

"Not _all_ of them, Arthur," the man said cryptically before turning to his agents, all hard stoicism once more. "Agents, this is Arthur, current head of the private British intelligence organization known--or not really known at all--as Kingsman. Galahad is one of his agents." To Harry and Eggsy, he said, "This is my top handler, Phil Coulson." Harry nodded his head politely. The archer was introduced as "Clint Barton, but you might know him better as Hawkeye." Clint gave a dramatic bow while Eggsy’s eyes flew open in recognition.

 _That’s_ why he seemed so familiar. How could he not have realized this man was one of the Avengers that saved New York (and the world) from fucking _aliens_ three years ago and maybe once a month since then? (And Eggsy thought his missions were bad.) Without the costume and mask, though, Eggsy was ashamed to say he didn’t make the connection. Fucking terrible spy, he was.

He turned to the woman and knew who she was before Nicholas had to introduce her. Harry spoke up before he did. 

"I must say, Nicholas," Harry cut in placidly, but his eyes were trained on Natasha as Eggsy’s were. There was genuine revulsion in voice which startled Eggsy. "I had no idea SHIELD employed snakes now." Natasha lifted one brow and gave Harry an amused grin, but Eggsy’s jaw would have nearly dropped had he been lesser groomed to be sophisticated. 

Never had he heard such blatant insult from Harry who was usually subtler than that. _Much_ subtler. 

"Natasha Romanov, aka Black Widow," Nicholas introduced with a smirk of amusement.

Harry turned to Eggsy to explain, "She's KGB--”

“Was,” Natasha interrupted.

Harry ignored her. “She stabbed me in the back and took out one of my kidneys back sometime in the nineties."

 _Ah_. Then Harry must have been who Natasha and Phil were talking about.

"She does have a tendency to do that," a new voice suddenly piped up.

All heads snapped in the direction of the doorway to see a man there--dressed impeccably in a suit that was very obviously bespoke with a quality that rivaled Kingsman standards, Eggsy noted. His face though, his face Eggsy knew.

“Stab people in the back I mean. Though, thankfully, I’ve never been on the physical end of it. Emotionally, though...” continued one Tony Stark, a perpetual figure on the covers of magazines, newspapers, and websites the world over. _No one_ didn’t know of the science prodigy slash billionaire who used to make the greatest weapons in the world, but after a three-month kidnapping turned his efforts to green energy and consumer electronics, among other things.

And now, Eggsy figured, he knew a bit more than most of the world because while his gorgeous suit and his Van Dyke screamed suave supervillain more than American super spy, now that Eggsy knew he was dealing with the Avengers, he could correctly guess that this man was Iron Man.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," Nicholas sighed, like this has happened before, and he was more annoyed at it than angry.

"Barton," Phil said, his tone bearing the same annoyance and resignation of the director’s.

"What? You _know_ he was going to find out eventually," Clint answered with a shrug and a grin, unconcerned with the handler’s reprimand. Eggsy found himself somewhat admiring the blond; Merlin would have had Eggsy’s hide if he spoke to him that way, especially in public.

Harry, though.

Eggsy watched as Harry, with astonishment-widened eyes, carefully set his teacup down on the coffee table before him and stood slowly with the surprised sort of reverence he usually reserved for meeting the Queen and for Eggsy when the younger agent set about _surprising_ him. The gazes of the other occupants of the room turned curiously to Arthur as he calmly made his way across the room to Tony.

The older man’s eyelashes were lowered over his eyes as they looked at Tony, projecting a concerning amount of affection at the genius. Concerning for Eggsy at least who looked between the two men with a small degree of alarm. " _Anthony_ ," Harry purred in a low voice filled with fond remembrance. And heat. It was mostly the heat in it that Eggsy was concerned with.

He almost, _almost_ snapped a warning when Harry reached for the hand _Anthony_ extended for a handshake, except instead of a handshake, he bent over and kissed the back of it. The pit of Eggsy's stomach fell out, and his muscles vibrated with indignance and jealously.

" _Kersploosh!_ suddenly went the panties of a thousand women," Clint muttered under his breath to receive a jab from Natasha and a glare from Eggsy.

"Hello, Harry," Tony greeted with an indulgent smile. "It's been a while." That Harry still held Tony's hand was not something Eggsy missed, and it only made his gut clench. "Florence in '97, wasn't it?"

"Milan, darling," was Harry's silky answer.

"Ah, yes. But you were _working_ then, though, so it doesn't count," Tony teased.

Harry hummed in thought. "Salzburg, then. The year before that." Tony considered that and agreed. Harry asked, "How have you been?"

"Well, I haven't _died_ , if that's what you're asking," Tony said with an eyebrow pointedly raised. Then he lifted a hand to Harry's face and brushed the cheek beneath his eyepatch. "I'd tell you to leave the eyepatches to Nick, but I can't honestly say you can't pull it off. What is it with guys in eyepatches faking their deaths anyway?"

"Old flame, Stark?" Clint suddenly asked. That drew their attention to him with the side benefit of Harry dropping Tony's hand. Eggsy was starting to like the archer already. 

The billionaire shrugged. "Who's counting, really?" he said nonchalantly as he strolled to the couches and siding into one of them fluidly. Harry took his previous seat beside where Eggsy stood and far away from Tony, which was the important thing. Eggsy placed a hand on his shoulder and ignored Tony’s smirk.

"Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Stark?" Nick said sourly, looking quite like he'd stepped in something foul.

Tony turned to him brightly and gushed in an exaggerated falsetto, "Oh, _Nicky_! You've never shown interest in my stories before! I'd never thought--"

"Stark," Nick cut him off with a raise of his hand. "I don't care if you fucked him six ways from Sunday--" Eggsy cared. Eggsy cared very, very much. "--I just want to know how you met him and how much you know."

Tony's grin was delighted and his eyes glittered. "Much more than you think, Nick." He winked. "But I'll let Harry tell the story."

All heads turned to the man in question who sighed. "I suppose it goes without saying that whatever is said in this room stays with the people in this room. I wouldn't presume that mere human beings--no matter how well trained--can threaten superhumans in any sort of manner, but I do believe that you are honorable people." He stopped and glanced at Natasha, but decided not to say anything, it seemed. She flashed him her teeth in a parody of a smile. "So I can only appeal to that sense of honor in maintaining Kingsman's secrecy."

"In the interest of full disclosure," Phil interjected. "The three superhumans in question are currently not with us here, but would undoubtedly be brought up to speed. I will, however, a mere human being, vouch for their discretion." Harry considered that briefly just as the door opened and a big, blond, absolutely _gorgeous_ man strolled through. Phil sighed. "Two now, I suppose. Gentlemen, may I introduce Captain America, Steve Rogers." And _that_ was why. Eggsy's heard about him, of course. Who hasn't? The Yanks' pride and joy, the peak of human perfection. He suddenly felt the urge to shrink into his seat to hide his inadequacy.

"You get used to it," Clint whispered, suddenly right beside him. It was meant to tease, and Eggsy took it for what it was meant to be: an olive branch.

"I can' imagine havin' t' live with tha'," he whispered back.

"Ah yes, Mr. Rogers." Harry stood and held out a hand to shake which Steve came up to accept. "I do believe I have yet to extend my congratulations to you and Anthony." Steve smile amicably.

"'Anthony,' huh?" he said and glanced at Tony. "You'll let him call you that but you won't let me?"

Tony waved an imperious hand. "If you can get Harry to stop, I promise to blow you so hard I'd suck your brains out your cock." Eggsy choked on a breath to disguise his surprised laughter. Steve didn't bother disguising his.

"Any chance of that?" he asked Harry with an amused glint in his eye.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll do so anyway," Harry answered sure like he was sure that the sky was blue.

Steve chuckled once more. "Very nice to meet you, Mr. Harry." Then he took a seat on the arm of Tony’s chair.

"Great! Glad introductions are going well," Nick cut in with false brightness. "But maybe we can hurry story time along because despite what Clint likes to tell the interns, I _am_ actually a very busy man."

Harry nodded in acquiescence and turned to the men and one woman in various sitting and standing positions around the room to begin his talk.

"Since 1849, Kingsman Tailors have clothed the world's most powerful individuals. In 1919, a great number of them had lost their heirs to World War 1. That meant a lot of money going uninherited and a lot of powerful men with a desire to preserve peace and protect life. Our founders realized that they could channel that wealth and influence for a greater good, and so they established an independent international intelligence agency operating at the highest level of discretion without the politics and bureaucracy that undermine the integrity of government run spy organizations.

"We formed SHIELD a few years later as our base of operations here in the US. Through SHIELD, we helped thwart a great many threats in the US as well as Europe. 

“Around the time of the Vietnam War, however--actually, precisely because of it--SHIELD chose to reveal themselves to the American government and align themselves with it against the directive of the Arthur of the time. As such, Kingsman broke off all ties with SHIELD. Those loyal to us--most of the senior employees--were absorbed into other locations, the rest were threatened into secrecy. It helped, I suppose that the Americans insisted on their own branding, and as such, low-clearance employees had no idea they were part of Kingsman at all.

"Over time, the knowledge of Kingsman was lost except to the standing and previous directors of SHIELD." He paused before saying, "And now you, I suppose."

"So where does Stark fit in with all this?" Phil asked. Tony gave an impudent wave when they all glanced at him.

"Anthony used to be one of my marks," Harry explained. "A few years after he'd taken over Stark Industries, we heard rumors of SI supplying tech to terrorist organizations. I was sent to investigate. When I found nothing on him, we dismissed the rumors as just that, especially after we found our informant had ties with the rising Hammer Tech. Of course, it was only later that we realized we had been investigating the wrong person." The regret in his voice was clearly pronounced, and Tony gave him a reassuring smile.

"Water under the bridge, darling," he said easily. "It was no fault of yours, and it's been handled."

"And spectacularly at that, may I point out," Harry said with a wry twist of his lips. "A suit of armor, Anthony? _Really_? I didn't realize we managed to impress on you that much."

Tony barked out sudden peals of laughter. "Oh you are so full of shit, Hart!" he crowed. Harry himself looked like he was about to chuckle, which he carefully hid behind his tea. "'Impress on me' my ass! If I had thought then, 'What would Harry Hart do?' I might have never made it out of there alive!"

"I'd say. There's no one who can quite do what Harry can," Eggsy cut in in his poshest tone, annoyed at the easy banter and casual flirting. Jealous. 

Harry sent him an amused, but reassuring smile. "I'd daresay you do quite well, Galahad," he countered to smooth Eggsy's ruffled feathers.

The agent didn't miss Tony's head tilting at him. "Oh, this your replacement then?" he asked.

"One of my finest agents," Harry said proudly. Eggsy managed to hold back his flush at the praise, easy enough with his training, but Tony's eyes lit up with understanding and delight anyway.

"You always did like them young, Hart," he teased, but before Eggsy could splutter indignantly at that, Harry, in a perfectly civil tone and an arched eyebrow, responded with a, "So sayeth the pot to the kettle." Tony laughed once more.

"Excuse my interruption of this delightful little conversation, but unless your organization is fucking shit at keeping secrets, how does a person go from mark to knowing all about you?" Clint interrupted. He was quickly becoming Eggsy's favourite in the room.

"Seriously, Hawkass?" Tony asked, both eyebrows lifted to convey his disbelief. "You're asking me how I discovered them after they came into my house, hacked into my systems, showed me their faces--well, Harry's face--and simply left after a _spectacular_ fuck?" Clint didn't look particularly bothered; he only grinned at the near insult on Tony's face. "Of course, I looked into Harry's identity. I knew what had happened as soon as I sat at my computer. It took, what? Two hours more to find all the information I needed. Kingsman tech was well advanced for the times, but not Tony Stark advanced."

"And still so fantastically humble," Harry murmured sweetly.

"When Graham manages to keep me out of my own damn systems, only then shall 'humble' ever enter Tony Stark's dictionary," Tony rolled his eyes. "Speaking of which, how is that Scottish bastard? Still denying the superiority of my tech?"

Harry's mouth quirked into a grin. "To everyone and anyone who would listen."

Tony rolled his eyes again, but Eggsy's eyes widened. He only just managed to keep from gaping. "You mean _that's_ what Merlin’s always on about?" he asked Harry. To Tony, he said, " _You_ set up the tech wing?"

Tony winked at him. "With my bare hands and extensive bank account."

"So you're saying, not only did you know about one of the world's leading, top secret organizations, you've been helping them all this time as well?" Nick growled. Annoyance was clear in his tone but the reason for it not as much.

"Who do you think manages to keep them out of SHIELD's systems?" Tony asked innocently. “And vice versa, Nicky dear, you needn’t have to worry.”

Nick growled. "I should have you written up--"

"For what, exactly, director?" Steve suddenly asked. He spoke coolly and calmly, but Eggsy could feel the edge in his voice. "For having assisted a friendly organization long before he even joined SHIELD?" Nick leveled a _look_ at him. He said nothing further about it, though.

To the room in general, he snapped, "Show and tell is over, children. Arthur and Agent Galahad have a mission to complete and--”

“Actually,” Tony cut in with a grin. “I might be able to help you with that.”

……………

It was fucking anticlimactic was what it was.

Granted, Eggsy wasn’t expecting, or God forbid, _hoping_ for an all-out firefight, but really. The quick in-and-out with Natasha and Clint was far less exciting than what he was hoping for. She was fast and silent and had twenty men laid out before they even realized she was there, and Clint was a maniac with a gun, a sharpshooter of the likes Kingsman had never seen before. Between the two of them, he barely even managed to show off his own skills.

Then again, they were a step above normal human beings which Eggsy reluctantly had to admit he was, even with all his training and skills and expertise.

 _Still_.

“I feel some’ow chea’ed,” Eggsy told the table in general. Their attentions, previously turned to the extensive spread of Chinese, Thai, and Indian takeout across the kitchen table (which was about two sizes too big for a normal kitchen table, but somehow still seemed to lack enough space for all nine of them), turned to him. “‘S like, I came all this way from England, spent two nights gatherin’ all tha’ intel, got stabbed twice--thank you fer tha,’ by the way, Ms. Natasha--” She tipped her glass of vodka in his direction and smiled widely, albeit sinisterly, at Harry’s scowl. “--got shot in the leg and drugged--thanks, Clint--and I din’t even get ter shoot the bad guy.”

“Do try to make us sound a little more sophisticated than that, Eggsy,” Harry reprimanded with a roll of his eyes. “‘Bad guy’? Really now.” That he was eating crappy lo mein out of a carton with wooden chopsticks and Eggsy was half sitting in his lap didn’t seem to deter from his composure and refinement. Eggsy beamed and wiggled to try to change that. 

“Aw, come on, Harry,” the younger agent answered as Harry glared at him and stilled his wriggling by digging his fingers into the thigh Eggsy slung over him. “‘S not as if we’re in any sort ov genteel company, ain’t we? I mean, they’re _Yanks_.” 

“Hey!” came the indignant exclamations from at least three people around the table. An eggroll and a samosa hit Eggsy’s head at the same time and only because he was distracted with laughing.

“Fuck you, mini-Galahad,” Tony threw at him, along with another egg roll.

“Stop wasting food, asshat,” Clint snapped, snatching the carton of egg rolls away from Tony. Then to Eggsy, he said, “But yeah, fuck you. We should sic Brucie on you, see how _genteel_ your people are after that.”

“Leave me out of this, Barton,” Bruce said. “I’m not yet banned from England, and I don’t plan to be.”

“Only because _Betty’s_ currently stationed there,” Clint teased in a sing-song voice and batted his eyelashes at the mousy man. Bruce scrunched his nose up at him.

“See if the other guy catches you the next time you fall out of a skyscraper.”

“We’ve already had to deal with one incidence of mass destruction over there, and we aren’t looking for a repeat performance, thank you very much,” Harry put in primly. “Keep the devastation to your side of the pond, please.”

Thor suddenly looked shamefaced. “I truly am sorry for the trouble my people have caused, my friends,” he offered once more as if he hadn’t already been forgiven. 

Harry quickly waved the apology away. “It’s been forgiven and forgotten,” he said firmly and sincerely. “We would gladly have you as a guest in our country anytime. You need only ask.” Then he turned to the table in general. “All of you.”

“‘Cept Barton,” Eggsy put in. Clint made an indignant face. “‘Coz fuck you, that bleedin’ shot was mine and you know it!”

“Hey, man, you snooze, you lose,” Clint answered.

“Tosser,” Eggsy sneered good naturedly.

“Dickwad,” Clint fired back.

“Pillock.”

“Asshat.”

“Berk,” Eggsy was just about to say, along with “plonker, mingebag, and plug-ugly” and _so much more_ because British insults were a true thing of beauty, but Harry cut in with an exasperated “Eggsy, _please_.”

“‘E star’ed it,” Eggsy answered petulantly instead, receiving an aggravated sigh in return.

“That’s what you get for taking up with a baby, Hart,” Tony laughed from across the table.

Eggsy scowled at him, still miffed at his and Harry’s _past_ , though admittedly not as much now with him seated in Steve’s lap looking like his entire world was all the brighter for it, so Eggsy said, just to tease, “Oi! Jus’ because I ain’t a geezer like yous is don't mean I don't know 'ow ter 'andle Haz's John Thomas durin' a bi’ ov rumpy pumpy.”

“ _Eggsy_ ,” Harry implored scoldingly while Tony laughed.

“Harry has at least ten years on me, Unwin,” he pointed out. “He’s more of a geezer than I am.”

Eggsy thought about it for a split second then shrugged. “Well, yeah,” he agreed with a grin.

Harry rolled his eyes. “ _Much appreciated_ , Eggsy.”

“Aw, you know I love you, babe,” Eggsy ribbed.

“From time to time I do have my doubts,” Harry answered, with a small pinch to Eggsy’s thigh.

“So you’re heading back tonight then?” Steve asked politely, breaking up the banter for which Harry couldn’t have looked more grateful for.

“Sadly, yes,” he answered. “My trip here was entirely unscheduled; I’d had to put off a certain number of things to do so, and they unfortunately cannot wait any longer. I’d been gone long enough as it is.” The true regret in his tone was carefully concealed, but Eggsy knew him well enough to know he was very much not looking forward to going back and fulfilling his Arthur-ly duties.

“We can always come back for a vacation?” Eggsy suggested through a mouthful of chicken tikka masala. Harry pulled a moue at him, both for his lack of manners and the thought that vacation time for Arthur was like a seeing a comet streak across the sky. “Or a mission-disguised vacation?”

"Come on, Hart. Stay the night," Tony said. "You can leave in the morning. England will still be standing by then. I’m sure Graham can hold off its imminent destruction till your return."

"Merlin has his own work to do. Not all of us have a Pepper Potts to run our organizations in our stead, Anthony," Harry shot back. "Some of us do actually do our own work."

"Oh, ouch!" Tony laughed, throwing a spring roll at Harry who caught it out of midair. With his chopsticks. "Fuck you. I do do my own work. That pretty little gun I gave your boy? My own damn work, Hart."

Eggsy remembered the sweet pistol carefully tucked away in his bag. It was a gorgeous thing and had maybe helped settle a bit of his jealousy towards Tony. Harry rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that day.

"'Hobby,'" he corrected. "The word you're looking for is 'hobby.'"

"Fuck you," Tony repeated with a grin. "Come on, stay the night. Don't you want to _reminisce_ the good old days?" He waggled his eyebrows at Harry, though his grin was wide and teasing.

"You're such a slut, Stark," Natasha said evenly between bites of pad thai.

"What? No reason Steve and Eggsy can't _reminisce_ with us, eh, Unwin?" Tony winked at him. And the thought of that was... surprisingly not unpleasant, Eggsy decided.

Before he could say anything, though, " _No, Tony_ ," came two warning growls, both wrought with possession. Tony laughed brightly and snuggled into Steve's arms, nuzzling the bottom of his jaw and pressing a kiss there. Harry's fingers tightened into Eggsy's thigh once more, and Eggsy felt lines of heat radiate outwards from it.

Maybe Tony Stark's utter shamelessness wasn't all that bad if he got Harry's carefully curated demeanour to crack. Nevertheless, Eggsy wasn't willing to push his luck against an equally possessive Captain America.

"So it's until the next mission then?" Eggsy asked instead.

"No," Phil answered. "The Director and Arthur have agreed that it would be in everyone's best interest to continue to pretend the other agency didn't exist. We'll continue to handle the large scale issues--"

"Aliens and shit, you mean?"

Phil's grin quirked. "Yes, Mr. Unwin, aliens and shit. And Kingsman will continue cleaning up smaller scale issues. Though Tony has _courteously_ allowed Mr. Graham and myself to share intel to keep from stepping on each other's toes."

"I had been managing fine with doing that before, you know?" Tony pointed out. "But as per usual, Clint found a way to fuck it all up."

"Screw you, Stark," was Clint's answer with his mouth full of chicken.

"Yes, well, maybe this time around, it'll give you a chance to do your own damn work instead of messing around with things you aren't supposed to be messing with," Phil told him. Eggsy giggled at Tony's indignant face.

The genius spluttered, "Why does everyone insist I don't do any work? No, seriously, who do you think keeps everyone prettied up with gadgets and shit? Who keeps cranking out products for SI? Who keeps SHIELD, _and other agencies of interest_ , hidden beneath layers and layers of security?"

Steve chuckled. "It's because you make this face when we do. It's kinda adorable really." Tony glared at him.

"I'm a forty fucking year old man, Steve. I am _not_ adorable."

"I'm ninety, and you call me adorable all the time!"

“It’s not the same thing,” Tony rolled his eyes. That was when Eggsy’s--and Harry’s, he supposed--glasses chimed a call.

“While I am glad you are enjoying your newfound friendship with the walking disaster that is Tony Stark and with his friends, we really do need you back on British soil as soon as possible, Arthur,” Merlin said. “And Eggsy’s slated for another mission tomorrow, so he needs to rest up for it. Pellinore’s waiting for you at the airport.”

“You go’ it, guv,” Eggsy answered promptly.

“Oh hey, is that Graham?” Tony asked, leaning over the table and waving in Eggsy’s face. “What’s up, you great Scottish dick?”

“A true paragon of intelligence and maturity, that man is,” Merlin answered blandly. Eggsy burst into peals of laughter, while Harry answered in Merlin’s stead, “Merlin says hi.”

“Liar,” Tony said with a sharp bark of laughter. “I’ll see him in a few months anyway. I’ve got some new upgrades that’ll have him eating out of the palm of my hand.”

“You tell him that if he so much as comes within a hundred feet of my tech wing, I’ll douse him in steak juice and sic the entire K-9 unit on him,” Merlin growled.

Harry smiled brightly at Tony. “Merlin says he’s looking forward to seeing you.”

“You are such a terrible fucking liar, Hart. Really. How did you manage to survive being a spy for so long? Shame on you,” Tony grinned.

“Only because your capacity to bullshit far exceeds your IQ, my dear. It’s inevitable that you’d be able to detect it, too,” Harry said and stood. Eggsy, Phil, Tony, and Steve followed suit. “Now, unfortunately, Eggsy and I must take our leave. It’s been a pleasure meeting all of you, and thank you for your assistance today.”

“Hey man,” Clint called to Eggsy. He reached out and gave Eggsy a friendly fist bump-handshake combo. “You were fucking kickass. If you’re ever on the wrong side of the pond again, look me up, and we’ll hang.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Eggsy grinned back. “And if you ‘appen by London, I’ll give you a proper tour. None of tha’ touristy shite, yeah?”

“It’s a date, then,” Clint said with another fist bump.

……………

“So. That went well,” Eggsy said later on when they were finally ensconced in the Kingsman jet and taking off for the mansion.

“For the most part,” Harry agreed, reaching out and pulling Eggsy onto his lap and stroking his cheek. “I could have done without the heart attack from you getting captured though. We were lucky she wasn’t with the KGB any longer.”

“Ms. Natasha was aces. I like ‘er,” Eggsy said.

“Yes, well, it wouldn’t do to let your guard down around her just yet,” the older man warned. But he was being paranoid, so Eggsy didn’t validate his concerns.

“Stark was a bit of an arse,” Eggsy continued instead.

“Stark is a _monumental_ arse, and don’t let him convince you otherwise,” Harry countered, making Eggsy laugh.

“Seems like ‘e’d be a great shag, though,” he baited Harry with a sultry little grin when he remembered Tony’s half-joking offer. To that, Harry said nothing and drew him instead closer for a languid, mind-blowing kiss that was all tongue and teeth and heat until Eggsy was a writhing, begging mess in his lap.

When he pulled back, Harry murmured in a dark, dark tone that sent thrills running up and down Eggsy’s spine, “Oh, he has his talents, but you, my lovely boy, are never going to find out.”


End file.
